


Can’t Turn My Back for even Five Minutes

by Winifred_Zachery



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Bruce to the rescue, Civil War AU, Community: avengerkink, M/M, Prompt Fill, Protective Bruce, Protective Hulk, Science Bros, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence, alternate movie ending, injuries, m/m - Freeform, serious fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winifred_Zachery/pseuds/Winifred_Zachery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once Bruce finds out about the Civil War his friends and teammates have unleashed, he simply can't stay away. And he is just in time to see Iron Man go down.</p><p>This is a prompt for avengerkink by kweandee to be found <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21013.html?thread=52817941#t52817941">here</a><a></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kweandee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kweandee/gifts).



> This is a prompt for avengerkink by kweandee to be found [here](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21013.html?thread=52817941#t52817941)

There’s this great roaring in his ears. It is the sound of metal striking metal, like the sound of a bell. Only the bell is all around him and he isn’t even sure that it’s not in his head by now. He just vibrates with the force every time he gets struck with a shield or a metal fist.

Tony can’t do this anymore. He is a man with a long range weapon going against two short range enemies here. And he’s not the strongest one in this fight.

At first rage had fueled him. Hatred, anger, despair. At the man who had killed his parents so long ago. At the man who has called himself his friend and then betrayed him.

Exhaustion settles in quickly, now that he is fighting for his life. He can’t win, not against those two, who are fighting for their convictions and beliefs and for each other.

Tony has nothing left to fight for.

He’s lost everything, his family, his friends, his purpose.

He failed at being a hero. Instead of atoning for his previous sins, instead of saving lives, he’d taken even more.

His best friend in the whole world lies in an ICU, unconscious still, from a fight he would never have had to fight if it weren’t for Tony.

The members of his team, that he helped build, that had been like a family for a while there, are fighting each other, are imprisoned, are scattered all over the world.

All because of him.

Maybe they’d all be better off with him dead.

His movements slow, arms getting heavier despite the pneumatics moving the suit around him. Blood is running into his eyes, clouding his vision. He can no longer block some of the hits Cap and Bucky bestow on him and one particularly vicious hit lands him on his back.

Breath won’t come and he sees Captain America… Steve tower over him, shield raised to strike. This is the end.

And oh, how ironic it is: Tony Stark will be dead by a weapon his father made. He’s always known the thing that kills him will have the name Stark written all over it.

The roar rises in pitch and it no longer sounds like a melody but like a giant creature howling with rage and misery.

Their eyes meet, but Steve’s gaze flickers towards the stone columns, where Tony can’t see more than a red-green haze. Then he brings the shield down, right onto the arc reactor, not his head, shattering it and driving the remains into Tony’s chest.

The column behind him shudders and cracks, an unearthly roar calling to him like a voice. Steve jumps up, incredulous eyes fixed behind Tony, and starts running.

“That shield does not belong to you,” he calls after him with the last of his breath. “You don’t deserve it. My father made that shield.”

His vision goes green, the stone column breaking apart with an earth-shattering howl.

Tony can barely hear the clatter of vibranium on the stone floor before his consciousness gives out.

***

He should have stayed in Fiji. Definitely. Siberia is cold and lonely and huge and he has no idea where he’s actually going. The coordination system of the Quinjet must be a little banged up and he used his last funds to refuel the damned thing and now he doesn’t even fucking know where he’s going.

But he had to come.

When he’d seen the news, Bruce had been terribly upset. The Accords, the two sides, the conference, all those deaths and right in the thick of it his friends.

They’d split right down the middle. It had taken all of his willpower to stay put.

He’d nearly hulked out in the seedy little bar when he’d seen grainy footage, caught on camera by airport security cameras, of a massive fight, the clash of two opposing forces who had been almost as close as family, when Bruce had left them.

The hands clenching at the edge of his seat had turned a pale green and broken the rickety chair underneath him. Only slow and carefully controlled breathing had kept the beast in check.

Ever since the Hulk had clamored at him to go, to find them and beat some sense into them and tell them they were behaving like children. They should know better than to fight, inflict even more damage, risk even more casualties arguing about the very thing that was meant to prevent just that.

He read about Lt. Colonel Rhodes’ terrible accident and his heart went out to him and to Tony who’d had to fear for his best friend’s life.

Then Steve had disappeared with the Winter Soldier and the rest of his team had been thrown in jail, was now supervised Secretary Ross, the one man Bruce despised and feared like no other.

That was the last straw. He’d called Natasha. He’d asked her to tell him everything. She’d helped him locate Tony and Steve.

It had brought him here, into the cold and the wilderness in a vehicle he only barely knows how to fly. Or land.

He’d seen other vehicles from above, sitting close to some kind of bunker plastered to the rocky ground. Another jet had started below, just as he’d broken through the clouds and fog, and for a moment he’d been afraid he’d come too late, but he’d touched down anyway, more crashing than landing on the frozen ground and several hundred feet off his mark.

Looking up the tall concrete structure, he catches movement at the top of the silo. And the sounds that echo down make his blood run cold. Metal on metal, struck together violently.

Through the concrete pillars he sees flashes of red and gold and blue and silver, intertwining and clashing, two figures against one. He sees Tony go down.

And the Hulk won’t be subdued any longer. He rips out of Bruce and Bruce can’t stop him, honestly doesn’t even want to stop him.

_ The stone is cold. Must climb. Reach Tony, important. They fight Tony. HIS Tony! _

_ Hulk roars and it is so very powerful and so very angry. _

_ The columns are thick, but Hulk is strong, the strongest there is and he grips and pushes and the stone starts to crumble. _

_ Star Man is looking up at him and Hulk reads FEAR and it is good! Yes, run away, puny human! _

_ And the stone will not give and Hulk roars again, ROARS, but the broken Metal Man is on the ground and Star Man and Metal Arm have him and raise the star shield to SMASH TONY! _

_ And finally the stone gives and Hulk yanks, and is angry and the stone gives and Hulk JUMPS and SMASHES and ROARS because Star Man RUNS and TONY IS HURT AND HULK IS FURIOUS! _

_ /Calm,/ Bruce says inside them and Hulk wants to SMASH Star Man and Metal Arm, but they run and TONY IS NOT MOVING AND HE SMELLS BLOOD and Bruce PUSHES, projecting panic and Hulk gives way,  _ shrinks down until he is just Bruce again, kneeling over Tony’s unmoving form.

“God, Tony, no!” he breathes, eyes burning, and touches his face, tries to wedge his fingers between skin and metal to reach his throat, to feel a pulse, until he remembers the manual release Tony builds into every suit for emergencies.

He recalls when they were working on Veronica and the Hulkbuster and Tony threw him a lewd look, reaching down towards his crotch and the microscopic switch between his legs that made the suit collapse into pieces around him.

When Bruce pushes that button now, the suit gives a hiss and some parts do collapse to the floor, but some have been wedged together by the force of the shield so that Bruce has to pry them off with his bare hands.

Only now can he feel along clammy skin, fingers searching for a pulse and finding it, and Bruce feels the band around his heart ease some.

Tony’s chest is smashed, where the arc reactor has been sitting only moments before, numerous cuts oozing blood, the rib cage strangely deformed, but still moving shallowly with each breath.

“Thank god that thing isn’t in your chest anymore,” he whispers, can’t keep the emotion out of his voice, but there’s nobody to hear him anyway.

The cold is creeping past the tatters of his clothes and the frozen ground is certainly not healthy for the wounded man either. They need to get going and fast, but Bruce has no idea how he’s supposed to get Tony down from here.

_ But Hulk does. _

/Careful,/ he reminds the green giant inside his mind, who only gives an impression of nodding solemnly, even as he is already changing again.

_ Hulk is very very careful, gently lifting sleeping Metal Man up in his arms, and sniffs, a snarl forming on his lips. He doesn’t like the smell of blood on him. _

_ He lifts puny breakable Tony and then jumps down to where the Bird is and puts Tony inside on the floor and then he lets Bruce take over once more, though grudgingly, because Hulk can better protect Tony, _ but right now he needs to be Bruce to make Tony better.

Hurriedly Bruce climbs into the Quinjet, trying to remember the procedure to start the engine get the jet up in the air and enter coordinates. Once that is done he leaves the flying to the autopilot to take care of Tony. He prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that the fuel will last.

There isn’t much he can do except make him comfortable and make sure he is as warm as possible beneath a shock blanket and still breathing evenly.

  
The flight seems to take forever and for the entire time he gently rests his hand on Tony’s chest to feel the reassuring steady, if faint beat of his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops, nearly forgot! Beta'd by hideme, all remaining mistakes are mine.

When Tony comes to he isn’t really sure he’s alive for a moment. That is, until the pain hits. Then he wishes he were dead. There’s a weight on his chest and it’s eating its way into his chest.

For a moment he panics, he’s back in that cave in Afghanistan, strapped to a metal gurney, a man with a chisel and mallet leaning over him, lifting, striking to break his chest open.

A hand settles on his forehead, gentle, sure, calming. There’s a man leaning over him, too, but he can’t make out who it is against the light.

“Easy, it’s alright. The painkillers just need a minute.”

Tony focusses on the voice that is so familiar, that he hasn’t heard in way too long. Bruce. His lips form the name, but no sound escapes them.

“Don’t speak, just breathe, slowly.”

Easier said than done. With every breath the pain lances through his chest like a knife and the air just won’t come. The hand on his forehead strokes gently, running up into his hair and after a few moments breathing gets easier.

“That’s better. Don’t worry. You have a sternal fracture and some broken ribs front and back. Probably hurts like hell, but you’ll be fine.”

“Fine, yeah,” he finally manages between controlled breaths. His thoughts pick up speed. Bruce is here. That is fine indeed. Either he is really here, which would be awesome, or somebody has hooked him up with the good stuff, which is also awesome, and he’s inclined to think it’s the latter, because the pain is starting to ebb some.

He’s lying on a bed with light flooding in through a window nearby. He’s not in the suit. He’s wearing pyjama bottoms. Where is he? Where’s the suit? The last thinks Tony remembers is closing his eyes to visions of red and green. “What happened? Where am I?”

Bruce’s hand draws back. “I brought you back to the mansion. I had no idea where else to go and I’m not really good with flying. Or rather landing. I might have done a number to the outdoor training field.”

Bruce. This really is Bruce. “Wait, what? You brought me back?” Tony’s breath hitches a little and pain blooms inside his chest. “You came back?”

“Hey, easy,” Bruce admonishes. He reaches for a cup with a straw which he brings it to Tony’s mouth to help him drink. The cool water tastes like heaven.

“And to answer your question, yes, I brought you back here.” He swallows audibly. “How could I stay away when all of you are so hell bent on ripping each others’ throats out.”

He says this last one gently, no accusation at all in his voice, and Tony is incredibly relieved. Seeing his friend here, healthy and hale, self-consciously ducking his head like he always does, is like a balm onto his soul. Since the scientist disappeared, Tony had missed working with him, doing science together until late at night, just throwing around crazy ideas and then thinking of ways to actually make them happen. He had missed the feeling of just being able to talk and be understood, without having to dumb down his ideas. He had missed the bantering when they’d shared a movie or TV show or even Youtube vids. He’d missed the easy companionship they’d had. He’d missed Bruce.

He’d thought about Bruce a lot during the whole mess, what he would have done, if he would have signed or chosen Cap’s side. How he would have reacted to Ross taking their teammates prisoner.

Tony is pretty sure he knows what Bruce would have done. He’s been running all his life from being used as a weapon and the Accords wouldn’t have left his friend and lab partner a lot of choices. Tony can understand that of all of them Bruce probably has the most valid reason not to sign. He might have chosen to retire like Clint had, only that’s not exactly a possibility with the Hulk. So he would have run to hide away in the most remote corners of the world to be safe. Just like he did.

So why in hell is Bruce Banner here now?

“Have you spoken to Natasha yet?” he finally asks, closing his tired eyes.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. She told me where to find you.”

“She must be glad to have you back.”

Bruce chuckles a little helplessly. “She might have taken objection to some of the things I threatened her with to get your location.”

That statement makes Tony look up at his friend with puzzled surprise. Bruce actually threatened somebody? “Hope I didn’t get you in hot water with your girlfriend on top of everything.” Lord knows he fucked up enough already.

Bruce’s smile is reassuring. “No girlfriend, no hot water.”

That is even more puzzling. “But you and her?”

“Were a dream of normalcy that will never be.”

Well, not if you don’t give it a chance, Tony thinks to himself, swallowing down the bitter jealousy that rises inside his throat. It sends a stab of pain through his chest.

“Maybe it’s just not the chance I really wanted to take.”

Tony shakes his head. First, he hadn’t realized he’ said that out loud. Second, he’s not sure he is following his friend’s train of thought and that rarely happens. Must be the painkillers.

“But why did you come back, then?” Because as glad as he is to have Bruce back, this just makes no sense.

It would have made sense for him to come back for Natasha. It would have made sense for him to come back and fight on Cap’s side. It would have made sense for him to show up to give Tony a piece of his mind for all the wrongs he committed. It would have made sense for him to stay safe and keep running and stay a planet’s diameter away from Ross.

At first Bruce doesn’t answer. Tony takes in his friend, who clearly has lost some weight again while on the run, who caught a little bit of a tan that suits him perfectly, and who probably has just a few more gray hairs than before. He can see even more fine lines in the corner of Bruce’s closed eyes. His shoulders are slumped, hands folding over each other again and again.

Moment after moment passes and Tony begins to think he won’t get an answer, wonders if Bruce even has one. He wonders if he could just go to sleep and then pretend this conversation never happened. Bruce doesn’t owe him an explanation.

But all of a sudden a shudder goes through Bruce’s big frame and he opens his eyes and straightens his shoulders with resolve.

“This is what I’m here for. You.”

A dry laugh escapes Tony. Bruce is a good friend, he must have given up on hiding to find them and take care of the wounded. Maybe he expected to find Steve on the floor of that bunker or even Bucky. “Thanks. For having my back. Again,” is all he manages past the lump of gratefulness and resentment in his throat.

But the other man just shakes his head, curls flying, gaze fixed on the floor beside Tony’s bed.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m not here for the Avengers or Steve or Natasha. I’m here for you.”

That floors Tony and right now he is sure the painkillers must be taking their toll, because he is imagining things and his vision is getting just a bit blurry.

“For me,” he states dumbly. The big guy won’t look him in the eye, so Tony is left staring at Bruce’s curls. He itches with the need to reach out and touch the soft mass of strands. Well, if this is a dream then he won’t have to deny himself.

When his fingers meet Bruce’s scalp, gently burying in his hair, Bruce gives a shaky sigh.

“Yes, you. This. How could I stay away knowing you were at each other’s throats and that there was already a near casualty.”

“You say the most beautiful things,” Tony sighs, because this is still his dream in which he can pretend, despite the pang of guilt that runs through him of Bruce mentioning Rhodey.

“This isn’t all that I came here to say.”

“Tell me what?”

“And here I find you all fighting,” Bruce continues as if Tony hadn’t spoken, still not looking up. “I have no idea what even happened, but it doesn’t matter, because I had to get to you. So I could tell you- The… the Hulk was really angry.”

Tony breathes in, out, against the pain. Then he gently tugs at Bruce’s unruly curls to get his attention. He wants those green-brown eyes on him, he wants to comfort his friend who is so distressed that his words come faster and faster. “Tell me what?”

At that Bruce finally looks up, dislodging Tony’s hand from his hair. “That it was never my feelings for Natasha that I ran from. But for you.”

Tony is floored. The revelation steals his breath away and it feels a lot like the hit to the chest he took from Cap’s shield.

“Bruce,” he starts, voice hoarse, but the physicist just shakes his head.

“Sorry to drop this all on you right now, with all the other shit going on, but I swore to myself I’d tell you if I ever got the chance.”

He sighs deeply, shoulders lowering, hands sinking into his lap. Tony’s heart beats unnaturally fast and he wishes he could still feel the whirring of the arc reactor picking up against what’s left of his sternum.

“Right now I’m just glad that I got there on time. Doesn’t matter what happened before or what happens next. “Bruce sounds as weary as Tony feels. “You should get some rest.”

Through closing eyelids Tony watches Bruce get up and turn to leave and he nearly doesn’t reply. He’s simply so tired and a part of his brain doesn’t want to pay attention to anything else but healing. But that had been his mistake the first time.

No, not again. Not this time.

“What,” he grinds out, looking at Bruce, who has turned around to look at him. “I didn’t catch that, tell me again when I wake up?”

The man by the door is silent for a moment, contemplating what Tony said and what he meant. It doesn’t take him long to figure it out. He has always been able to speak Tony’s language. He gives a short nod, then he is gone.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments!


	3. Chapter 3

Hours later Bruce is sitting in the lab Tony built for him at the compound - which he never even got to see - wondering why he’s still here. He shouldn’t be. He should run. There is a war going on where he needs to help. There’s a war going on he’d rather stay out of.

But Tony asked him to. Not in so many words, but Bruce knows.

He looks up and lets his gaze wander through the office space, complete with name tag at the door. His name. Dr. Bruce Banner. And a state of the art lab through that door to his right. It has a connecting door to Tony’s workshop.

For a moment Bruce wonders if Tony missed him as much as he missed the engineer. Well, he doesn’t actually need to wonder. He knows. But then, he’s afraid to actually believe in something that would be too good to be true.

So why is he still here? Tony is safe and taken care of, after all.

The reason is that Dr. Bruce Banner, mathematician and logician, rationalist and realist believes in possibilities. That no matter how small the odds, chances are good things may still happen.

That is why he is here. He needed to tell Tony, no matter how small the chance that Tony might actually like him back that way.

At the back of his mind the Hulk grumbles in displeasure. /Don’t worry,/ he thinks at his greener half and projects the feeling of sitting down, crossing his legs. /Not running. We’re waiting for Tony./

Because Bruce may deny it to everyone else - except Hulk, because he can’t fool his emotional side - but he always believed in possibility, no matter how small.

_ HOPE, _ the green giant inside him rumbles and it sounds like an avalanche crashing down a mountain slope. Tony hasn’t sent them away. He hasn’t let them go.

The injured man hasn’t woken yet. Bruce asks FRIDAY for updates at regular intervals and the new AI dutifully reports on the state of her Master, until Bruce falls asleep sitting on the sofa in his lab.

It is awfully comfortable and Bruce hasn’t slept since he heard the news of the fight. He’s forgotten how many hours it’s been. Now he is not as tense as he had been and his eyes close all by themselves. And so he leans his head against the backrest and closes his eyes.

He only startles awake when he feels fingers combing through his hair.  _ Tony, _ the Hulk rumbles in the back of his head and Bruce slowly opens his eyes to see the man himself standing behind him, leaning over the backrest.

In a flash he tries to stand, but the injured man pushes him back down. “Tony, you’re supposed to rest.”

“I always wanted to do that,” he sighs and gently pulls at Bruce’s hair. “I would have, too, if I hadn’t been so sure you’d flee halfway across the world.”

Bruce chuckles. “I did that anyway.” He closes his eyes and decides to not fight this moment. Just to have something to remember afterwards.

_ No leaving, _ the Hulk groans in protest, pushing at Bruce’s mind.

/No, no leaving. But we have to let Tony decide./

“So, do you like your office?” the billionaire asks and lifts his other hand to bury into Bruce’s hair as well. At that moment Bruce wishes he’d taken the time to shower instead of just having a quick wash, but Tony doesn’t seem to mind that he hasn’t properly cleaned up in days. He seems to have a fascination with Bruce’s curls.

The physicist opens his eyes and lets them sweep over all that Tony has provided for him. The room is spacious and bright, despite facing north. There is enough light coming from the windows that overlook a small artificial pond surrounded by trees. The scenery is very serene, despite the exact neatness with which the plants and decorative stones have been placed. Bruce likes the view. So he simply nods.

“And I built you a lab too,” Tony continues. “State of the art, anything I could think of you might like.”

“Yeah, I saw that. It’s great,” he smiles. “No idea what I’m supposed to do with a nanoparticle synthesizer, though.”

“Well, I might have gone a little overboard with that,”

This is so typical for Tony and it makes Bruce laugh. He lifts his head to take in the engineer’s face. The bruises are even more pronounced now they’ve had time to fully form, but Tony looks a bit more rested and not as haunted as he has before. Bruce just wants to send him back to bed anyway.

“So, about that thing you wanted to tell me earlier…” he starts, but Bruce interrupts.

“Which you understood perfectly well.”

“I might have,” Tony sighs, one of his hands rising to run through his own hair. The other remains just where it is, just resting at Bruce’s neck. “Couldn’t chance you taking off again.”

“So what do you want to hear?” Bruce asks a little bashfully. “That I threatened Nat to smash her if she didn’t help me find you - which I’m not proud of by the way.”

It’s one thing to tell a half-drugged, exhausted billionaire playboy how he feels and quite another to tell his friend, hurting, defeated, hopeful, face to face.

“That you’re all that stands between the Hulk and Captain America right now? That I’m here because of you?”

The words feel like a knot lodged in his throat, one he can’t seem to unravel and give voice to. Bruce’s mouth closes, trapping his breath inside.

But Tony knows him. Tony understands him, even without words. He always could and Bruce should have known he’d find the words Bruce cannot articulate even now. “That you love me.”

The cocky, confident grin that goes with those words is a sight for sore eyes and just pure Tony.

“I know I’m not wrong,” the engineer continues, still running his hands across Bruce’s scalp.

“No, you’re not.” He closes his eyes. There’s no use in denying when this man can read him like an open book. Bruce thinks this should be scary, but this is Tony and he trusts Tony.

_ Hulk trust Tony. _

“I need to hear you say it.” This is spoken in a tone so soft, so vulnerable, not matching that grin, that Bruce has to open his eyes to make sure it’s still Tony talking.

But it is. This is Tony showing him a side he hasn’t shown anyone in a long time. This is a man who’s seen evil and who isn’t afraid of it, but afraid for it to hurt the people he loves. This is a man who needs to save the world even if the world doesn’t want to be saved. This is a man who fights for what he believes in, for his friends, his family, virtual strangers, because they are not supposed to have to live their lives in fear. This is a man who barely keeps going on a good day and still gets up to fight, because he wants to spare the people he loves such a traumatic experience. This is the man who lost his friends trying to make sure they’re safe, when his own worst nightmare is to be left alone.

Bruce knows this, because Tony let him see, once upon a time. And yet he left, like everybody else.

_ But we come back in time. _

/Yeah, we did,/ he thinks back at the monster inside his head. He’s done being afraid of what the words mean or if anything will even come of Bruce saying them. Tony needs him to say them. He needs to hear and to know that he is loved, even if he doesn’t love in return. Maybe.

“I love you.”

There are lips on his, at an awkward angle, and Tony’s hands clutching his head tighter than before and he probably should have brushed his teeth and his fingers reaching for Tony’s cheek are probably hurting the other man. But Bruce can’t stop touching, can’t stop his lips from pressing forward to increase the pressure, to want this, need this more than air

And from the sigh of pure bliss against his jaw Tony can’t either.

“Me too.”

His world is awash in those words and he can’t help the smile curve his lips and feels Tony’s answering grin against them. They match so well.

Both pull back at the same time, not because they want to but because the angle  _ is _ awkward and Bruce probably  _ should have _ brushed his teeth and Tony  _ does _ need to sit down, which he does, right next to Bruce on the sofa.

He stares at the other man, the smile still playing across his lips, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. He should probably should make some joke about how he always knew Tony loved himself, but he doesn’t.

Tony could probably tease him about how the whole world loves Tony Stark, but he doesn’t.

There is a whole world of should and could and what if between them, but Bruce chooses not to think about any of it. If he starts thinking now he’ll leave. And he can’t do that to Tony who is looking at him right now with a self-satisfied smile and a desperate question burning in his eyes.

“Are you going to stay?”

STAY!

Stay, despite the danger he presents to every person close to him, despite the threat of Ross and the Accords hanging over him?

_ Stay for Tony. _

This is what Hulk wants. This is what his heart wants.

Bruce nods. “For now.”

Tony’s smile grows and leans over to press a kiss to Bruce’s mouth, just a shy contact of lips that nevertheless makes Bruce shudder with its intensity.

This is what his body is craving.

“Really?”

Bruce pulls back and meets Tony’s eyes.

“Well, considering what happens when I turn my back for just five minutes it’s probably safer to all involved,” he grins ruefully.

A sigh of relief teases across his lips and they are so close that he isn’t sure if it’s Tony’s or his own.

“Good. You can keep us all out of trouble,” Tony replies. “Besides, I can kiss you way better when your back isn’t turned.” Which he promptly proceeds to demonstrate.

_ Good, _ the Hulk rumbles in the depths of his mind, the rage just a quiet simmer.

His heart and body are home already, here, beside Tony on the sofa in his own office. Maybe now he can rest a little and let his head catch up.

 

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile why don't you drop by my [tumblr](http://harvestingstorm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
